


Papa Hale

by lavenderlotion



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Come Eating, Coming In Pants, Coming Untouched, Consensual Underage Sex, Cuddling & Snuggling, Daddy Kink, First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Underage - Freeform, stiles is 16
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-22 19:53:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13771362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavenderlotion/pseuds/lavenderlotion
Summary: Stiles doesn’t expect anything to happen. Really, he doesn’t. It doesn’t mean anything that Derek Hale - hottest fucking guy in school - invited him over to study, alone, on a Friday night. Stiles doesn't expect anything to happen.He certainly hadn’t expected this, anyway.





	1. Chapter 1

Stiles had never been popular. He never had a large group of friends, never surrounded himself with people just to have people around him. He always had a small group, kept those who mattered to him close and didn’t need more than that. He told himself, years ago, that he didn’t need it, didn’t need to be well liked and popular to still like himself. And that was true. It was further true when he proved to himself that he was  _ smart _ , smart enough to be moved up a class in science and math. 

No more sitting around in sophomore science - now Stiles was taking senior Chemistry and Biology and was doing pretty well in both, considering he had missed the first three weeks before his teacher got him switched up. And it was awesome. So maybe he had even fewer friends than he did before, but whatever. The only thing that really mattered was the way his father had smiled at him, pride bright in his eyes as he hugged Stiles tight.

It was so much better than the empty, grief-filled glances his father had given him when his mother first died. 

So Stiles didn’t need to be well-liked. What he needed most was to be happy with himself and to make his dad proud. Losing his mother had taught him short life could be and he wanted to make this one count. He didn’t so much want to be known, all he needed were a few close friends so he would have someone to talk to. 

Stiles had been moved up in both science and math, so atop his senior-level science courses, he was also in junior math. Because of that he often spent his lunch break in the library; studying and working and still trying to catch up. It was the only time he got to see Scott this semester and it was hard seeing so little of his best friend. He had to drop their shared gym class - not that he really minded, because  _ gym _ \- in order to fit in Chemistry. But that was fine since all the people he cared about most were proud of him.

And, well, there were certain perks to taking senior level classes - mainly, senior boys. You see, atop of being kind of a nerd, Stiles was always very,  _ very _ queer. Like, super gay. He also had a thing for a certain type of a guy - namely broad-shouldered and bearded. Which was where Derek Hale came in. Derek Hale was a senior, in both of Stiles’ science classes - which fuck, made it hard to focus some days - and absolutely gorgeous. 

Stiles, predictably, had a stupid crush. Stupid because Derek Hale was popular and people liked him. He was smart enough but also really good at sports. He looked like a fucking college student far more than a high school one and pretty much everyone wanted to be him - or more likely, really - fuck him. He was - well, he was Derek Hale.

Derek and his father had moved to town two years ago. Rumours ran fast in a town the size Beacon Hills thought it was and even Stiles had heard a few of the tales regarding the two. Apparently, there had been a bad divorce, cheating on the mother's end and some issues with money. Stiles wasn’t sure how much of that was true. It was impossible to tell what was made up and what wasn’t. But, it didn’t seem to matter to  _ anyone _ after the first day of school. 

Derek Hale how shown up in a leather jacket and the beginnings of dark stubble. He had been mysterious and dangerous looking and everyone had taken an interest. Stiles couldn’t say he had been immune to the excitement and the attraction, it just hadn’t been all that consuming. He had better things to do than fawn over the new student. At that point he and Scott had been in the eighth grade, trying to survive.

And then they got to high school, and Derek Hale had just gotten more attractive - thicker and fuller bearded and  _ god _ , Stiles so had a fucking type it wasn’t even funny. And now Derek was in his class.  _ Two _ of his classes and Stiles felt like he was being tortured in the best fucking ways. Derek participated in class, raised his big hands attached to his vein-covered, hairy forearms. 

Really, class had become a constant struggle with his self-control and it was just a little exhausting.

Worse than that though - Stiles may be a little bit of a romantic. The worst part, it’s not even his own fault. He grew up watching his parents in love. It was always so obvious how much they cared for each other and it was in everything they did, every time they were together. It was a beautiful example for Stiles to grow up with, one he was thankful for having. 

His mother herself was a romantic, would spend hours watching the silliest of movies and reading the cheesiest books. She was in love with love. And really, Stiles was too. It was a part of her that he never wanted to lose and something he kept close to his heart as he watched his father fall apart before him. He sees love as something all-consuming, overwhelming. But - but it’s soft, that he knows from watching them together, the way his parents fit together and fit around each other.

He wants that. He knows he’s not in love with Derek, god, but he is incredibly attracted to him. He does have feelings, thinks more about what it would be like to take Derek on dates, to hold the other boy close than he does about Derek naked. Stiles spend far too much time daydreaming. He knows it - though he never lets himself fall behind - and in his perfect, fantasy created daydreams Derek falls hopelessly in love with.

Then again, Stiles only has only ever observed him from afar, and it really isn’t fair to say that he has feelings for Derek when he barely knows Derek and - and he has total, huge gay feelings for Derek Hale. They are annoying and inconvenient and they suck. They suck so hard. He can’t even deny it, can’t keep telling himself it’s a physical attraction when he wants to bundle Derek up with his heart and never let go. It’s mostly why he’s staring at Derek, barely paying attention as Mrs. Pratt drowns on. 

They weren’t learning anything new today, were mostly going over homework Stiles had done more than a week ago. It’s mostly why he missed the first part of whatever she was talking about, missed the introduction to the project that Stiles most likely knows how to do or has already done - he has a lot of free time.

“... I know we are coming to the end of the year, and you’re all graduating soon -”

“Not everyone,” came mumbled from the back of the room, but Stiles could make out Lydia Martin’s voice if he needed to. 

“ _ And _ , I know you aren’t all itching to do more work. That being said, we do still have a couple of months left, and this project is important,” more groaning from the class and Stiles had to shake his head at their lack of enthusiasm, “So, I am letting you work in pairs of two. Now, pick someone you trust and want to work with. Like I said, this project  _ is _ important.”

That dimmed the light in Stiles’ eyes just a little. He wasn’t popular, which meant he was often stuck working alone. By the slides displayed behind Mrs. Pratt this wasn’t something he had actually done yet but he didn’t think he would have much difficulty either way. If he had to work on his own he would probably be fine.

“Hey, Stiles,” Derek -  _ holy fuck Derek fucking Hale  _ \- said, lips pulled up in a smile, endearing fucking bunny teeth sticking out, “Do you want to work together?”

Stiles tried, alright, he did! He tried to talk, to answer, to say  _ anything _ . But Derek Hale was standing right beside him, must have walked all the across the classroom to get there and Stiles couldn’t speak. Instead, he nodded, could feel his cheeks getting warmer and warmer until his face was practically burning. He hardly had time to feel embarrassed before Derek was reaching out, hand warm - so warm - on his bicep as Derek smiled wider.

“That’s awesome! Thanks, Stiles. How about you come over tomorrow? After school, yeah, and we can work on it then?”

This time Stiles didn’t stop nodding until the bell rang.

* * *

Stiles was trying to tell himself to calm the fuck down.

He was. Firmly so, even. It just wasn't working. Which, really, did not surprise him. Stiles knew how movies and books went. Knew there was a reason that the ’ _ hot guy falling for nerdy but kind of hot girl’ _ was such a popular trope. It was endearing, sweet, and Stiles found himself in the middle of it.

At least, he hoped that’s what was going on. He couldn’t come up with any other reason for Derek to have asked to partner with him. Sure, Stiles wasn’t exactly the most noticeable but it wasn’t outrageous that Derek could have noticed him. He had recently gotten new glasses that he sometimes wore, and the thick black frames made his eyes look bigger and his cheekbones look sharper. 

It wasn’t outside the realm of possibility that Derek could be into him. Hell, Stiles knew he was at least  _ somewhat _ attractive. Danny, an openly gay guy a year above him had flirted with Stiles when he first switched into his math class. Danny hadn’t meant much by it but it had still been nice and let Stiles know he wasn’t totally hideous. Danny was nice, sure, but he didn’t seem the type to hit on someone for no reason. 

Still, Stiles was trying not to get his hopes up. Because getting his hopes up could only mean having them crushed afterwards and that was decidedly not something that he wanted to happen. No, he wanted Derek, wanted Derek  _ so bad _ and maybe -  _ maybe _ Derek wanted him to. God, Stiles felt so silly, freaking out over this seemed so stupid but it was hard to stop himself. 

Being invited to Derek Hale’s house on a  _ Friday nigh _ t to  _ ’study’ _ had to mean something. Stiles was sure of it.

It didn’t mean that his hands stopped shaking against the steering wheel, not even when he pulled into the driveway. Derek had added him on FaceBook last night to send Stiles a message with his address. The house wasn’t anything crazy, smaller than his own but it held a familiarity, as though the layout may be the same on the inside, just not as much space.

Stiles’ hands shook as he made his way up the driveway. Derek’s familiar black Camaro was sitting in the driveway so Stiles had parked on the street. He passed it carefully as he knew how much Derek cared about his car. He shoved one hand in his pocket, the other gripped tight around the strap of his bag to keep it from sliding off his one shoulder

God this shouldn't even be that big of a deal. It  _ wasn’t _ that big of a deal. He was just going to do homework. With Derek Hale. Alone. On a Friday night. No big deal. It’s what Stiles told himself as he rang the doorbell. He hoped being three minutes early didn’t make him seem desperate, or needy or like - anything uncool at all.

“Stiles!” Derek said once the door was opened. He looked good and Stiles couldn't help but notice he wasn’t wearing the same shirt as he had been to school.

Stiles wasn’t either. The shirt he had on now was one of the tightest things he owned, fitted and black and it stretched across his chest. Stiles also wasn’t wearing flannel, figured if anything was going to happen why have more clothes to keep track of. Not that anything was going to happen. Nope. Stiles looked back up, trying his best to pull himself out of Derek’s eyes and actually say something, since the older boy was standing there looking expectant.

“Uh, hi,” Stiles said, a little wave of his right hand making him look even more like a loser. Well, at least he had gotten actual words out this time.

Stiles stepped into the house when Derek moved aside. The place didn’t seem anything impressive, but from what he saw it was tidy. The front standing room was nice - a mirror was hung in the front entry, a shoe rack against the wall. Stiles wasn’t wearing a jacket, not in this weather, but he figured the sliding mirrors opened to a closet. 

The hand on the small of his back was completely unexpected, though Stiles couldn’t say he minded, not when Derek directed him further into the house. Stiles had always known Derek’s hands were big but they felt large while pressed against the fabric of his shirt. The living room was just to the left of the front room, the wall opening in a wide arch. The couch was old and worn though it looked incredibly comfortable. A large armchair was on the opposite side.

“Why don’t you set up on the couch? You can pull the table up and I’ll get us something to drink?” Derek’s voice was calm, low in the quiet stillness of the house and Stiles nodded again.

The couch was just as comfortable as Stiles had imagined it being. He was still nervous, but sitting had him calming slightly - or maybe it was the knew, erratic bounce of his knee but either way he was able to take a full breath. Stiles had no idea why he was making this into such a big deal. So far it seemed nothing more than what Derek had asked for. They were going to do their homework and Stiles was going to leave.

None of what his mind came up with mattered. This was not one of his mothers rom-coms or one of his secret romance novels. He was not the nerdy girl that the hot jock was going to fall in love with but - but what if he  _ was _ . It drove Stiles crazy, the uncertainty. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if Derek was gay. He did change his shirt after school, but that could be something regular for him. Stiles had no idea the inner workings of Derek Hale’s life.

Stiles took a deep breath when he heard Derek coming back. He had been setting up his things while silently freaking out - pulling out his notebooks and his textbook. He was ready, but he was in  _ no way  _ ready for Derek to sit down close enough for their thighs to touch, their shoulders brushing together. It - fuck, they were so close, so close and Stiles had to take a few deep breaths to calm himself down.

“Here,” Derek’s voice had dropped lower than before and he handed over the water. Stiles’ hands shook far too bad to keep holding it so he put it down fast, not wanting to spill anything.

“So, you have everything set up, huh?” when Stiles looked over Derek wore a small smile and Stiles had to assume this was - teasing? Flirting?

“Y-yeah. I have everything,” Stiles answered, and since he couldn’t seem to stop he nodded as well.

“So, I was thinking we could -” Derek then went on to explain his ideas for the second project suggestion. It wasn’t his favourite of the four options, much preferring the third but Stiles wasn’t going to argue. He did suggest his idea though, since Derek’s didn’t sound as thought out as it could be and Stiles knew his was.

They went over the general idea. It was going to take a lot of reading, but Stiles didn't think it would be too bad with the two of them. A warm hand was settled just below his knee on his thigh, Derek leaning over to listen and look as Stiles pointed at his textbook. He was talking fast and his breath had started to come short but he was determined not to make a fool of himself.

He was just flipping another page in his textbook, explaining just how easy the diagram they needed to make was when a phone went off. It wasn’t Stiles’ - his was on silent in his pocket and no one called him anyway - and Stiles watched Derek duck his head and mutter a  _ ’sorry’ _ but he stood quickly and left Stiles alone for a few minutes.

“Oh! Hey, look. That was my girlfriend, I got to go, okay?” Derek said, coming back into the room. His face was pulled down in a frown that didn’t meet his eyes.

“I - oh. Uh, alright? What, should I just -” even as Stiles tried to talk, to come up with something to say his mind continued to scream at him,  _ girlfriend, girlfriend, girlfriend _ . Because of course. Of course, Derek was straight and Stiles was so fucking dumb to think anything else.

“Oh no, no! You can stay here, it’s really no problem.” Derek was still trying to frown, that much Stiles could tell but he wasn’t doing as good a job as he thought. It was probably harder to fake looking upset than it was to smile charmingly. 

“Oh. Well, I could? Uhm, I don’t know, I could work -” Stiles suggested, not sure where he was going but feeling worse and worse as he kept talking.

“Yeah, that’s a great idea! How about you finish that up, and I’ll rush back, alright?”

Something heavy settled in Stiles’ chest at that. It was - it was stupid to be upset. He should have known. He - god, he should have known. He should leave too, but instead he watched Derek leave, watched as he pulled on shoes and sent a smile over his shoulder. And still, Stiles sits his own workbooks spread out in front of him with his own ideas jotted down in his notebook. 

He feels used, a little. Stiles knows he’s smart, has always known he was smart and it’s something he’s always worked for, something he has had to try hard at. It makes him feel good when he gets good grades and he knows it also makes his father happy. Apparently, other people know about his grades as well. At least enough that Derek asked to be his partner and then left.

Which means that the only reason Derek invited him over in the first place was to get Stiles to do his work for him. It sucks, to realize that, still sat alone in Derek’s house. It’s far more believable than thinking he had a chance, at least. Stiles had no idea why he got his hopes up, why he would have let himself wish for something so  _ stupid _ . 

Life wasn’t like the rom-coms his mother used to watch. It wasn’t fairy tales and secret crushes and falling in love with someone so far out of his league. It - well, most of the time life was bitter disappointment.

Still, Stiles doesn’t leave. Even as his mind races and the tightness in his chest refuses to lessen. He wants to go home but he’s not sure he could trust himself to drive, not with how his mind feels a little far-away and everything feels loose. Whatever, he’s here, his work is here, Derek gave him permission to stay. 

His textbook still lay open and he pours through a page as he reads, his eyes skimming through the text. Doing work was easier than focusing on the low-thrum of hurt buried somewhere in his chest and it must be why he doesn’t notice that someone has entered the house. He’s using his work to distract himself, fully immersing himself in his textbook so he doesn’t have to think about anything else. He only looks up when a voice speaks, deep and solid and Stiles lets out a little  _ ’eep’  _ noise.

“Oh! Oh, uh hello?” Stiles looked up startled, staring up and up at the man who now stood in front of him. 

The man looked like Derek, at least enough to see a family resemblance. He was tall. Impossibly tall and wide shouldered, covered in broad muscle. He was also very, very attractive. His beard was full, lined with grey and white and Stiles found it distractingly nice to look at. The smile the man wore - and it must be Derek’s father - was gentle and he looked at Stiles in concern.

“Uh, hi,” Stiles mumbled and he quickly wiped at his eyes, rubbing the palm of his hand hard against the skin. 

Derek’s father stepped closer, his calf bumping against Stiles’ knee as he made his way over to the couch and asked, “So, what did my son do?”

Stiles shook his head because really, Derek hadn’t done anything. Well, Stiles didn’t think Derek really did anything, at least nothing to warrant getting this upset. Sure, he may have invited Stiles over and left him to do all the work, but that didn’t bother Stiles so much. It was that Derek had smiled at him, had touched his arm and led him inside with a hand on his back. Had faked enthusiasm at working together and lied to leave Stiles there alone. 

He had - well, maybe not so much as led Stiles on, but it was close enough that it still hurt. It  _ definitely _ was not something worth crying over, which was absolutely not what Stiles was doing. Nope. But even as Stiles tried to calm down, to breathe evenly and fight off the wave of hurt he knew his eyes were watering. He tried his best to blink away the wetness. He didn’t want to think about Derek, not now and not here. 

No, what he needed to do was leave. Stiles had no idea why he had decided to stay to begin with. But he had, and now he was here with Derek’s father. The man was standing close, too close. Stiles’ knee was warm where the man was still pressing it against his calf and Stiles startled at sudden contact against his cheek, looking up at Derek’s father with wide eyes. 

The man’s thumb brushed against Stiles’ cheek, under his left eye. Stiles felt the wetness the man was brushing off his skin and he leaned into the contact, tilted his head a little to the side. Derek’s dad moved his hand back but before Stiles could panic is was there again, wide palm open where it now cupped Stiles’ cheek. 

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” the endearment was spoken softly and Stiles looked up. The man was smiling down at him softly, his palm still pressed to Stiles’ face.

“S-Stiles,” he breathed out, wetting his lips with his tongue. 

Stiles let his eyes close, took a deep breath to centre himself. He had no idea what was going on, was having trouble thinking from the haze clouding his mind. All he knew was the hand on his face was spreading warmth throughout his whole body, that the man’s finger caressing the skin behind Stiles’ ear felt good. Derek’s father had smiled so softly, the lines around his eyes moving with the motion and Stiles couldn't bring himself to think of it as anything other than attractive. 

Stiles blinked his eye open when pressure settled against his bottom lip and he looked down. The man’s thumb was resting against his lip, adding pressure until Stiles’ mouth dropped open. The man made a noise not unlike a growl and Stiles’ eyes shot up. Derek’s father was staring down at him, eyes heavy as he stared at Stiles. The man's lips twisted up, a small smile taking over his face and god - this man was  _ gorgeous _ .

“My name is Joe,,” Stiles bobbed his head, not able to reply with Joe’s thumb now pushing into his mouth. The pad of his finger was skin-salty and Stiles carefully scraped his teeth against it before moving in with his tongue. 

Stiles had never done anything like this before, obviously, but his oral fixation was no secret. He’s sucked on enough random objects (and maybe practised giving head on a banana or two) that he knows somewhat what to do. 

“You are so gorgeous,” Joe breathed and Stiles preened a little at the compliment, shyly moving forward and hallowing his cheeks round Joe’s thumb. The man seemed to approve, his other hand going to the back of Stiles’ neck, fingers threading with the short hairs along Stiles’ nape.

Stiles was already hard in his pants - god, how could he not be when Joe looked the way he did - and he whined when Joe took his thumb away. He mouth felt empty and even though it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes since Joe had first pushed his thumb inside Stiles wanted it back. His mind still felt a little clouded, although it was a nicer feeling than it had first been.

“It’s okay, it’s okay baby. Just going to give you something more. You want to suck on Daddy’s dick, don’t you?” oh,  _ oh god _ , did Stiles ever. Joe’s voice was so deep, much deeper than it had first been and it made Stiles harder in his pants. He nodded, mind still buzzing pleasantly as he watched with wide eyes and Joe used his own hand to pop open the button of his jeans and pull down the zip. 

Joe’s underwear weren't anything worth remembering but the way they strained against his dick certainly were. Stiles could see it through the fabric, the way it was pushing forward. Stiles wanted to get his mouth on it, fuck, needed to and he leant forward without thinking about it. Joe had gotten his jeans down to his ankles so when Stiles brushed the hard length with his cheek he was only met with the smooth material of Joe’s underwear.

Stiles breathed out, breath hot over the length and Joe made a punched-out noise. Stiles wanted to hear it again, see what other noises he could draw from Joe so he opened his mouth and pushed out his tongue, feeling Joe’s dick through his briefs. The got him another noise but it also had Joe tightening the grip on his hair and tugging his head back. The pain shot through Stiles and went through to his dick. 

“You doing so good baby, being such a good boy,” the praise made Stiles feel light and he smiled up at Joe. 

The man worked his underwear down, pulling it off his dick and Stiles watched as it swung upwards, heavy and flushed red where it slapped against Joe’s belly. It was big, bigger than Stiles had been expecting. It made sense, since  _ all _ of Joe was big, but it still made Stiles nervous. This was way more than any banana he had ever tried it on and he didn’t want to let Joe down. 

Which, well, Stiles didn’t know why he cared. Stiles had no idea what was going on. This was not what he had been expecting, at least not  _ who _ he had been expecting it with. Still, Stiles couldn’t bring himself to stop. Derek’s dad - Joe - was attractive, one of the hottest men Stiles had ever seen. He was so large, bigger than Derek and the lines around his face did nothing but make him more attractive to Stiles. 

. Fuck, he didn't even know why he was doing this. Yes, Joe was hot,  _ fuck _ was he hot, but he was also  _ Derek’s dad _ . This, this wasn’t even legal, but Stiles’ head still felt nice and light and his dick was incredibly hard in his pants - painfully pushing against his zipper and he didn’t want to stop, didn’t know if he could. He - he wanted Joe to keep praising him. Stiles liked how it made him feel, to know that Joe was pleased with him.

Joe’s cock dragged heavy over Stiles’ bottom lip, smearing a line of precome that Stiles flicked his tongue out to taste. Joe hadn’t moved back yet and the tip of Stiles’ tongue brushed along the warm flesh of his cock. Joe made another noise, this time more of a moan so Stiles repeated the action. He licked the head of Joe’s cock, pushing with his tongue and digging the tip into the slit of Joe’s dick. The noise that got him was wonderful, deep and growly.

There was so much going on but Stiles did his best to pay attention to the dick now in his mouth. Joe was still rubbing his nape with his left hand, though his right was now carding through Stiles’ hair. It was comforting, made it hard for the gravity of the situation to set it and made everything seem far lighter. Stiles hallowed his cheeks, pulled back until just the head of Joe’s dick was in his mouth. He sucked hard, lapped with his tongue and again drove it into the man’s slit.

Stiles bobbed his head once, twice, taking it as deep as his throat would let him. He brought up his hands, using both to stroke at what he couldn’t reach. He knew Joe was muttering praise, could pick up a few words but his mind felt too full. Stiles own cock was so hard, harder than it had ever been and pressing against his zipper. His hips were making small thrusting motions, trying to get some sort of relief, rubbing against his own jeans in search of  _ something _ . 

Joe was moving his hips, hands tighter in Stiles’ hair now. Stiles was tugged forward, the head of Joe’s dick pushing uncomfortable against the back of Stiles' throat and he gagged. He pulled back, pulled off and breathed deep. Joe’s hands were now brushing through his hair, gentle where they scratched along his scalp.

“Sorry, sorry baby. You’re doing so good. Keep going, keep going. That’s it,” Stiles was still using his hands, bobbing his head but sucking hard at the tip of Joe’s dick, trying to remember to keep his teeth back and his tongue out. It was hard to remember both, especially with his own arousal clouding his brain, but it was worth it. The deep noises Joe kept making just made Stiles harder, made him suck stronger and push more with his tongue. 

“So good, so good Stiles, you’re doing so good for Daddy. Good boy, fuck,  _ my _ good boy,” Joe was saying but Stiles could hardly listen, too busy focusing on what he was doing. His own dick was getting painfully hard. He could feel his balls drawing up, pressure pushing against his spine the more praise he got.

Joe was salty on his tongue, precome warm where it leaked out of Joe’s dick. Stiles sucked harder, paying special attention to the head as he used his hands on the rest, spit-slick from gagging. Joe’s hand tightened in his hair, tugged at the short ones along Stiles’ neck and that was it. Stiles came hard, mouth dropping open as he breathed deep around Joe’s cock. 

Joe talked him through it, words soft in the quiet of the room as he wiped at Stiles’ tears yet again.

He pulled back and Stiles wanted to whine at the loss but Joe rested Stiles’ forehead against his hip, using his own hand to strip his cock. Stiles couldn’t do much from here - wasn’t sure he could do much at all, not with how come-drunk he felt. But he watched, eyes half closed and listened. Joe came with a loud grunt, come splattering his own hand and a few spurts hitting Stiles’ face where he turned inwards. 

Stiles mouthed at the base of Joe’s dick, the curly hairs ticking at his nose as Joe panted above him. Joe stepped back fully after a long moment, leaving Stiles to sway forward and he almost fell, catching himself on the table at the last moment. His mind still felt cloudy, his orgasm making everything feel even further away than it had before. 

But then Joe was back, a solid heat along his side, wiping softly at come on his face. Stiles watched as Joe leaned back into the couch, pants done up and hand clean. Then he was picking Stiles up,  _ picking him up oh go _ d, and dropping Stiles into his lap. Stiles curled up, sitting sideways in the space between Joe’s spread thighs and he welcomed the comforting hold, sighed when Joe wrapped big arms around him.

Stiles let his head rest against Joe’s shoulder, staring up at him through half closed eyes. He was tired, incredibly sleepy in a way he normally didn’t get just from coming. Joe tilted his head up and Stiles let his eyes slip closed once the man began to lean in. The kiss was soft, Stiles’ first and incredibly chaste compared to what he just did.

Fuck, what he just did. Stiles - Stiles had sex. Oral sex, but sex nonetheless. And with a grown adult, which, whoa super illegal. Fuck, what was Stiles going to do? He felt like he should be freaking out, should be panicking at what just happened. But Joe was running one of his big hands down Stiles’ back, all but petting along his spine and he was warm where they were pressed together.

“That - that was my first kiss,” Stiles said, and god, he had no idea why he said it. He was so comfortable, head still resting against Joe’s shoulder. 

Joe made a noise that sounded like surprise, though Stiles wasn’t sure. The man was nosing at the skin behind Stiles’ ear, breathing heavy, warm breaths against the back of Stiles’ neck. Stiles let his eyes close, sinking further into the embrace.

“I - you mean, oh fuck,” Joe said after a long moment and Stiles blinked his eyes open to see Joe’s lips twisting from a soft smile into something close to a frown, “How old are you?”

“Will - will you be mad?” Stiles asked, ducking his head. He - he really didn’t want Joe to be mad at him, not after how warm the praise had made him feel. 

“Mad at you? God no, sweetheart. Mad at myself, definitely.” Joe said, though he still made no move to push Stiles away.

Stiles snatched at Joe’s other hand, holding it between his and playing with the man's fingers, running his own over Joe’s. It helped to calm his mind, the thoughtless movement and he took a deep breath, “Uh, I’m sixteen.”

“ _ Fuck _ ,” Joe breathed out, “I fucked up, huh.”

Stiles shrugged at that. Legally, Joe fucked up big time, but Stiles had a wet spot in his pants and could still taste Joe on his tongue, bitter and salty against his lips. This time Stiles leaned up, pressed his lips to Joe’s and let it last longer than before, sucked at the man's lower lip and smiled at the shaky exhale it got him.

“We can figure something out,” Stiles said, face heating up. Fuck, he wasn’t sure what he was saying. No way would Joe want to ‘figure something out’. Stiles knew this was going to end horribly, fuck could end with Joe going to jail. Stiles wouldn’t let that happen, at least would make sure it wasn’t because of him. He would just be lucky if Joe let him pack everything up before kicking him out. 

But then Joe was lacing their fingers together, pulling Stiles tighter against him and Stiles felt warm again, his stomach twisting with hopeful nerves and it felt good, so good that Stiles thought maybe, just maybe they could figure something out, that this may not end horribly.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just a little thing I wrote based off a prompt from [this prompt list](https://lavender-lotion.tumblr.com/post/175030958528/fictional-kiss-prompts).
> 
> I might still write an actual continuation, hopefully.

Stiles laughed, giddy, when Joe grabbed his thigh and swung it over both his own to pull Stiles onto his lap. He settled himself across the older man’s thighs, framing his face with his hands, his stubble tickling Stiles’ palm as he petted over the coarse hair. He’d trimmed it for their date, and while Stiles enjoyed the fuller beard, he had to admit that there was something about the sharp line of Joe’s jaw that was very appealing.

He leaned forward, pressing their lips together through their smiles.

They kissed, mouths sliding together lazily. Stiles had lost count of what date they were on, not bothering to keep track after date number eleven. At that point, they’d been seeing each other for nearly a month without anyone finding out, and Stiles was beginning to feel like it could be...permanent. He liked how it felt, the familiar warmth inside his chest every time Joe let him lean up and kiss his cheek, every time Joe pulled out his chair or opened the car door for him.

It was nice. Feeling wanted. And Stiles ground down, rolling his ass against the hard line of Joe’s thick, thick cock, and knew he was very much wanted by this gorgeous, unbelievable man.

**Author's Note:**

> wowza. lmao, this happened. this was supposed to be some short porn. welp.
> 
> life update: im stressed as fuck


End file.
